


Just another won game

by Imoshen



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:45:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2108646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imoshen/pseuds/Imoshen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a won game, Thomas comes down from his adrenaline high with a little *ahem* help from Manuel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just another won game

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work I'm posting in quite some time, and literally the first smut I've written in ages.  
> Originally done for an anonymous prompt om tumblr, and posted anonymously there, too.

**Disclaimer** : Not mine, not making any profit, no Intention to harm anyone with this. Just a little fun!

 

Thomas is still high on the adrenaline of a won game, still nearly vibrating with it, two hours after the final whistle.

It's usually like this, for him. Nowadays, he enjoys it, knowing what's going to happen.

Large, strong hands come to rest on his shoulders, and his tapping foot, the wriggling fingers just - stop. Thomas breathes out, relaxes his shoulders.

"Hey."

Manu doesn’t answer with words, but there’s no need for them, anyway. He steps closer, runs his hands down Thomas’ chest, pushes his arms away, until he can grasp his hips, pull him in against his body. Thomas leans into him, rests his head against a strong shoulder. Closes his eyes. 

The first skin-on-skin-contact are Manu’s lips, brushing along his exposed throat. Warm breath ghosts over his neck, raises fine hairs in its wake. Thomas shivers, feels Manu’s amused hum against his back. 

One of those large, capable hands leaves his hip, slides inward and presses flat against his already hard cock. Thomas hisses, pushes forward against the pressure. Not enough, not nearly enough, but so good…

“Is that the game, or me?” Manu asks, voice low and amused, fitting his fingers over the ridge showing through his pants, stroking slowly. Thomas groans.

“You…”

Manu grins against his neck, nips at the skin. His hips rub against Thomas’ ass, and he can feel how hard the goalie already is. Lust zings through him, ‘oh _yes_ ’, and he pushes back, wants to feel more.

“Impatient”, Manu admonishes gently, but his voice is a bit breathless, and he lets go of Thomas - ‘no, wait, come back, that wasn’t - _oh_ ’ and next thing the striker knows, he’s been pushed against the wall shielding them from view on the right, leaning on his forearms, his track pants are somewhere around his ankles, and Manu’s hands are on his ass, stroking and squeezing. 

“Gone commando, have we? Naughty kid.”

Thomas has a reply for that, somewhere, but before he can form the words, Manu has pulled his buttocks apart slightly, and there’s a wet finger running up and down and teasing his entrance, and ‘hell, where did Manu get the lube from?’ is pretty much his last coherent thought before that finger pushes in.

Manuel grins at Thomas’ low, long moan. They don’t usually have time to acutally fuck after games, it’s blowjobs or mutual handjobs most of the time, but watching that tight ass on the pitch, today, Manu decided he would make the time. Clearly, the striker didn’t anticipate it, though from the sounds he’s making as Manu slowly fucks him with that single finger, he’s definitely approving. 

Gaze focused on the hole that’s greedily taking in his finger, Manu adds another, begins to stretch the younger man open. ‘One day’, he promises himself as he searches for that tell-tale spot inside Thomas, ‘one day I’m going to spread him out on my bed and make him come like this, stretched around my fingers.’

The visual alone is enough to have his cock twitch in his pants.

The striker moans as Manu finds his prostate, and turns his head to look over his shoulder. 

“Dammit, Manu, come on, fuck me, please!”

“I am fucking you”, Manu answers, grinning, accentuating his words with a hard shove from his fingers. Thomas moans, glares, and Manu grins and pulls his fingers free. He fishes the condom from his pocket and shoves his pants down, rolls the latex on and drapes himself over Thomas’ back. The head of his cock bumps against Thomas’ hole.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, c’mon”, Thomas pushes back, and Manu guides himself in, slowly but in one steady push. He has to bite his own lip to keep from biting Thomas’ neck - ‘can’t leave marks’ - and the striker moans, eyes closed and head thrown back.

It’s a tight fit, and Manu hesitates to move for a moment, aware he’s not a small man and didn’t take much time with prep, but Thomas moves his hips impatiently, “damnit, move”, and yeah, with an invitation like that? No way he can hold out.

Still, Manu tries to move slowly, but soon enough, Thomas pushes back, “harder, not gonna break, c’mon,  fuck me Manu”, and Manuel buries his head against Thomas’ neck, grasps his hip with one hand and complies, fucking into the body before him in hard, fast thrusts. His other hand closes around Thomas’ straining cock, wet already from leaking fluid, and strokes in time to his thrusts. The sound his partner makes is very nearly a scream.

Thomas’ body is racing towards orgasm. Manu is all around him, in him, hitting his prostate with every other thrust, and yeah, it burns, the stretch just this side of too much, too fast but it’s exactly what he wants, to be able to feel this for days. Manu’s hand on his dick is perfect, playing with him just the way he needs it, and he can feel his muscles tighten in preparation. Just a bit more…

Manuel moans as Thomas’ muscles tighten around him, moves his hand faster, wants to feel the younger man come around his cock. “C’mon”, he urges him on, “come for me.”

Thomas does. His back arches, the scream barely muffled against his forearm. Manu feels his cock twitch, his fingers suddenly wet, and manages two more thrusts through those contracting muscles before he comes, too, mouth pressed tightly against Thomas’ shoulder. 

They stand there for long moments, panting, still lost in each other. Thomas turns his head, Manu raises his, and their lips meet in a chaste kiss. 

Their lips part as reluctantly as their bodies, but already, reality is pressing in on the edges. They have places to be, people to talk to, and soon enough, there will be someone looking for them. Manu pulls back with a last kiss to Thomas’ neck, takes just a second to make sure he didn’t hurt his partner. 

“I’m fine, Manu.” Thomas turns around, leans against the wall with his back. Pulls his track pants back up.

“Humour me”, Manu replies, cleans his hand off with a small towel from his sports bag. He leans in for another kiss, this one with tongue involved, slow and gentle like the sex wasn’t. 

“See you tonight?”

“You bet.” 

They share a smile, and then turn and head back to the team. Halfway there, they’re already teasing each other and laughing.

Just another day after a won match.

 


End file.
